


This Little Light

by InsanityRule, Legs (InsanityRule)



Category: The Righteous Gemstones (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Religious Content, Religious Guilt, Self-Denial, some regular guilt too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-01-16 15:30:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21273476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanityRule/pseuds/InsanityRule, https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanityRule/pseuds/Legs
Summary: Kelvin's in a pit, and Keefe is his ladder. He just doesn't know it yet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a canon divergence! Moving forward, things are not going to be the same as the finale, which I loved, but I've had this concept percolating and decided it was going to be my mini-NANO challenge.
> 
> No guarantees that I'll have a chapter done every day, seeing as there aren't 30 of them, but I wanted to start the month off with a bang.

If God were truly looking out for Kelvin’s well being, he’d grant him some temporary super-human lung capacity and let him stay underwater until the Earth stops spinning. But far sooner than Kelvin’s willing God’s design catches up with him, and while he’d prefer to just stay under and let a whole new darkness consume him his darn human body takes charge and he pops up from under the pool’s shimmering surface.

He shakes his head, water spattering around him and rippling through the surface tension. Not the worst thing, but the cherry on top of all the worst things, is he’s fairly sure his wine glass fell into the pool with him, and there’s a very real threat of stepping on the fragile stem and sending a stick of glass through his sandals and into his tender foot.

It’s because he’s so focused on watching for the glass that he doesn’t notice a pair of legs dangling into the pool until he’s reached the steps. Kelvin’s eyes follow the unmistakable line of Keefe up his ankles and over his shorts, landing somewhere around his chest. He can’t bear to go any higher.

“I brought you a towel,” Keefe says. Kelvin whines, and scrubs at the water (and tears) on his face. This is exactly what he _ didn’t _want. It’s also everything he’s ever wanted, and between that and the wine he feels the threat of vomiting building strength. “It’s the real nice one. You got it in Fiji, I think.”

“Bahamas,” Kelvin croaks. Something in him crumples up and dies when he actually gets a look at Keefe. Unlike Kelvin, he’s not trying to hide any tears. "Two years ago."

"I remember."

"I don't." Not the details, which even without alcohol are fuzzy, blobby gray smears. Momma's diagnosis put a damper on a lot of things that summer, but she got him the towel when he took a clothes laden dive into the pool at the resort.

"I think you should come inside," Keefe coaxes. "It still gets real cold at night. And you're all wet."

He doesn't, he _ can't _ think about this gentle creature, this ethereal oddball trying to take care of him after being threatened with a very physical kick off the compound. _ It's not fair _, he thinks, even as he lets Keefe clamp a firm hand around his arm and help haul him out of the pool. He thought he knew what temptation looks like; he didn't know it could look like this.

Keefe bundles him up in the towel, and he doesn't want it to feel as warm and comforting as it does. _ Why? _ he screams in his head. _ Why like this? _

He thought he knew real punishment. He does now.

And yet he lets the lashes keep coming. Keefe puts a hand on his back and ushers him into the pool house. One lash. He gestures to the stand up only shower, "gotta get out of those wet clothes, amigo." Two lashes. Watching Keefe stand there, one hand clutching at the edges of his towel to keep it from slipping off his broad shoulders. Watching him finally do something about the steady stream of tears salting up his cheeks. Forty lashes, and then some.

"I gotta," he swallows past the lump in his throat, wills it to go away so he can sound strong in the face of temptation, "Keefe, I gotta ask you to go."

"Right," his face falls.

"The right way," Kelvin adds. "The proper way. No yelling-" ("It was rather jarring.") "I'm so sorry," he sobs, "I'm sorry! _ I'msorrysorrysorry _-"

When there's a tentative offer of arms he takes it, and falls right into Keefe's towel draped arms. They remind him of wings. He's not sure what kind.

But what's one more temptation, really, after so many times where he's chosen Keefe first? He'll repent later, and he'll be forgiven, as long as he gets Keefe to go.

"Everything's falling apart," he wails. "My, my family's being punished, Keefe. They are," he pulls back, nodding feverishly against Keefe's soft protests. "They are. I just," he sniffs, "I just don't know why I'm being punished too."

"Well, if you really want me to go," Keefe hazards, "I suppose I will honor that."

He does. He really does. And he also really_ really _ doesn't. If it is Keefe, if he somehow is this great, evil temptation, then he should go. It's right for him to go.

But if it's Kelvin. If there's some dark, deep pit inside him sucking away at any light he has, then he wants Keefe as far away as possible so he doesn't get sucked in too.

"I think I have to. You have to," he mumbles.

"Okay," Keefe says, even as a cavernous hole opens up between them, the edges cracking and crumbling, with one fine point carving out a hollow space in Kelvin's chest. "Can I call your brother, or sister?" Kelvin shakes his head. They're not what he wants. "I'll go," Kelvin sobs, but he finds himself nodding, "but I have one request."

"Shoot." _ Me_, he thinks. _ Please_.

"I'd like to help."

-

Help is a hand on his back as they walk to the house. A voice, warm and constant, talking over the squelching of his wet shoes. He doesn't hear the words, but that's not what they're for.

Help is a steady hand, a warm shower, a hot towel fresh from the dryer, and clean clothes from his closet. It's a warm cup of cocoa in his hands, and the perfect number of marshmallows floating on the top without even having to ask.

Help hurts.

It hurts, but he keeps letting it happen.

Keefe's dressed, but shirtless. His hair is still wet from his own shower down the hall. Usually he'd just wait for Kelvin, and use the master. He can't explain why it hurts that he didn't.

Kelvin watches as he fills a duffel bag with some of the clothes he's left here. There's so many! A whole side of one of Kelvin's giant closets. He doesn't have to watch Keefe pack; he'd do _ anything _for Kelvin, anything he asks. But if this is his punishment he'll drink his fill, and tomorrow, maybe, things will start to be okay again.

Keefe keeps looking at Kelvin from over his shoulder, sending his sad, puppy-dog eyes at him along with another lash at his back. One last temptation? Maybe, or at least a plea for him to reconsider.

He comes to a stop in front of Kelvin, the bag over a shoulder and a tank top in his free hand. "I have some stuff in your bathroom. I thought I'd wait until you were done."_ Why? You never have before. _"One thing," here it is, the final temptation. Kelvin squares his shoulders, and eyes Keefe's hand warily when it lands on his left one. "I think it'd be best if you stopped drinking, but if new Kelvin does drink recreationally, he might want to alternate with water."

"What?"

"It's just," Keefe shrinks back, finally reading the situation right. (no no no it's not what he _ wants _) "You're not real used to it, normally. You might get sick if you drink too much."

"Oh, right." Wrong. He's _ already _ sick. Heartsick. He can feel it trying to shrivel up like a raisin. "We'll see."

"I just think," Keefe shrugs a shoulder, "maybe the Lord wouldn't like it." Keefe's lip rolls in as he nibbles at the corner. "But you'd know best."

-

He wakes, and he aches. He made a big mistake.

Or, maybe he should look at it as many, tiny mistakes. Four ounce mistakes, the kind that stain your carpet, your teeth, and maybe the nice rug in his foyer. He honestly can't remember.

Somehow, he's made it to his bed. On top of the covers, which are rumpled but, thank Jesus, not smelling of anything more foul than some trace chlorine and sweat.

Kelvin can't think of anything he wants to do more than lie in bed for the rest of forever and wallow in self pity. Unfortunately he can think of a dozen or so things he _ needs _to do, like get some water and painkillers. He really needs some painkillers.

He sits up slowly, a creaky old man in a young man's body. There's a long, thin strip of light stretching across his bedroom; a tiny sliver sneaking past his curtains and reaching towards him. Desperate. Scrabbling.

No, no, he just really needs those painkillers.

He reaches for his phone and sends a bottle of water flying off his bedside table and skittering across the floor. Next to its original place, on its side but not sent asunder, is a bottle of pills. Aspirin, extra strength. And the bottled water? Genius. Spill proof. Kelvin's got himself a guardian angel.

He can't think about it, but partly because he can't garble together any thoughts at all. Kelvin moves at a snail's pace, sending God and Jesus both some half-formed thoughts as prayers. _ Don't throw up don't throw up _ ** _please_**_. _

Bending down for his water is a close call, but his prayers have been answered. And then God gets mad at him again because he drops the bottle after the cap's off and sends pills scattering. He looks up, beseeching. Hasn't he suffered enough? Was his self-inflicted punishment not sufficient? He bends down again and grabs a dose and a half off the floor. He tosses them into his mouth and washes it down with the water.

Things are looking up, starting _ now_.

He runs into two doorways on his way to the kitchen to start assessing the damage. One, no _two _open bottles of red, but he barely touched the second. He picks up the bottle and sniffs the contents, retching and holding it at arm's length when the smell is too much.

_ "I don't think you're the devil," he says. _

Oh.

_ "I don't," he tells Keefe. Why is he still here? He shouldn't be here. Kelvin's so happy he's still here. He _ ** _shouldn't be here_**_. _

_ "Alright," Keefe whispers. Hands, so many hands, they're taking Kelvin's wine glass and the bottle, guiding him out of the kitchen_. _ "I think you better call it a night." _

_ "You can't be," Kelvin whimpers. "You can't be. He wouldn't send you to me if you were." He should know. Mary Magdalene, see, he's read the story so many times. Someone from darkness, brought to light. That's _ ** _Keefe_**_. It's got to be. _

_ "C'mon, time to say night-night." _

"Oh, _ fuck _," Kelvin groans. "Fff-sorry. Sorry," he glances up, bows his head for a spell. "Okay," he mumbles, slams the bottle down on the counter and scrambles for his phone, wherever it is.

He finds it on the coffee table, and messes up his unlock code twice before he gets into his contacts and taps Judy's picture. "Judy? Judy, we gotta tell Daddy. Everything."


	2. Chapter 2

Kelvin stares dumbly after their Daddy's car as he drives away. Jesse, somewhere behind him back on the side road, it pitching a fit similar to the one Judy is throwing to Kelvin's right. The kind that always brought Momma barreling in to soothe them out of said fit, and Kelvin for watching his siblings go buck wild on whatever breakable was nearby.

"I'm fired?" Now Jesse, he can understand. Drugs and hookers, blackmail and the whole running over that blackmailer thing. His own son bringing in a real delinquent personality and welcoming him onto the compound. And Judy, heck, she's been dipping her toes into being fired for ages now. "Why am _ I _fired?" He turns to Judy and Jesse, and asks it again. "It just don't make sense."

"Cause you're a spineless wimp," Judy says. Kelvin sticks his tongue out at her. "Daddy said so himself. Couldn't stand up for the Lord."

"God damnit!" Jesse yells. "None of us would have been fired if you two kept your damn mouths shut! Things were going _ fine_!"

"Fine?" Kelvin gestures vaguely. "Jesse, Scott is _ dead_. Other people could've got hurt." And Keefe, just so darn bemused, coming in from helping with the trash with an oh so funny story about the newest car prank he witnessed, from just about ten feet away. "Things haven't been fine for _ a while_."

"Aw, to hell with both of you." He flips them both off, both hands even, and walks backwards to his car. It's a little satisfying when he bumps into it and Amber's little mark makes him swear all over again. He limps his way to the driver's seat and speeds away in a huff.

Kelvin's partway back to disbelief (really, why was he fired?) when his phone starts ringing, and he finds Daddy's picture on the screen. He shows into Judy.

"Why's he calling you?" Judy snaps.

Kelvin shrugs and accepts the call on speakerphone. "Hello? Daddy?"

"Kelvin, come see me in my office."

"What?" ("Oooooo," Judy coos, right in his ear. He swats at her.) Kelvin looks down the road at the trail of dust from their Daddy's car. "Why didn't you have me ride with you?"

"I just want to see you, Kelvin. Just you. As soon as possible."

("Oooo.") "Alright daddy." He hangs up, and immediately turns on Judy. "What are you doing ooooo-ing in my ear like that? We're already fired. I don't see what's so bad that you gotta 'ooo' about it now."

Judy snorts. "I don't know, but it's bad enough Daddy didn't want to sit in the car with you the whole way back."

"Hmm," Kelvin tucks his hands into his armpits. "Guess that's fair. What with me being a spineless wimp."

"God, Kelvin," Judy huffs. "You aren't spineless, you're just stupid sometimes."

"Wow," Kelvin mocks her. "Real good pep talk Judy. Real good."

"Oh, fuck you," she growls, honest to God growls at him. He is not too proud to admit he jumped back a little. "Ugh, do you want me to drive?"

"No?" He looks around, and back to Judy. No, they're still on Earth. "Why would I ever want that?"

"Well," she pushes back some of her wild, poofy hair out of her face, "we drove together, and you kinda look like you want to drive the car into the middle of the wetlands. And I don't want that, okay? So let me drive."

Kelvin hesitates, but he pulls the car keys from his pocket. He handles them for a second before tossing them over. "Fine, but if we die, I'm telling Jesus it's your fault."

-

Kelvin broods silently, watching the long stretch of wetlands out the passenger window, and reluctantly admitting that Judy might have had good reason to keep him out of the driver's seat. Sinking down in the murky water and ignoring his responsibilities sounds real good right about now.

"Am I really stupid?" He asks without looking away from the window.

"Oh, for God's sake, Kelvin," she groans. "No, okay? You're not stupid. Sometimes you just do stupid shit because you go along with whatever everyone else wants."

"Okay, not true-"

"Oh it _ so _ is. You've been doing it your whole life. You're so desperate for people to like you."

"People like me _ plenty_."

"Yeah, cause you're always kissing so much ass." Judy's quiet for a bit, long enough to get Kelvin curious and look over at her. She looks back at him and sighs. "I did it too, sometimes. I used to think Jesse was really cool, and I wanted him to think I was cool. But _ he's _the stupid one."

"Yeah, yeah he is," Kelvin sits up and really puts his heart into this vent session and away from any untrue comments about his likability. "I mean, he thinks he's just _ so _great, like, all the time."

"Exactly. God's chosen son."

Kelvin pointedly doesn't add on to that, because he's fairly sure he's made that comment about himself at least once when she was within earshot. "But he's the one doing drugs, and spending time with hookers. Bet God just loves that."

"It's just because he's got such a photogenic family. You know, BJ is _ plenty _photogenic."

"And he's not even that likeable. Jesse downright sucks."

They're both quietly fuming, when Judy reluctantly admits, "he did do really good at the Easter Service."

"Yeah, sure, the Easter Sermon was good, but you know what else went good? My part. The part that goes good _ every _year, and Daddy never notices."

"Where you're dancing around with the kids?"

"Yes, Judy, where I'm dancing with the kids." Kelvin rolls his eyes. "But you know why that's so gosh darn important? Those kids grow up, and you know what happens when they didn't have fun in their youth group? They stop going to the church, and that means they stop donating. Don’t work like that with any other group.” He shakes his head. “You know what happens when all those older folks that liked Jesse’s sermon grow up? They don’t keep donating. They just die.”

Judy clears her throat; Kelvin won’t give her the satisfaction of looking directly at her. She’ll have to deal with his reflection in the rear view. “You thinkin’ about Momma?”

“No,” he insists (always, low-key, pretty much every day), “but since _ you _ brought her up, she’d definitely agree with me. I’m _ great _with kids. Always have been.”

“Not Jesse. He can’t even get his own kids to like him.”

“Exactly. Me? I’ve been working with kids practically my whole life. Used to help Momma in the nursery during those Wednesday meetings Daddy ran.”

“The couples therapy?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Judy’s looking at him and not the road, he can feel it; also she nearly ran over a farmer’s mailbox. “Do you mean when you were seven?”

Kelvin shrugs. “Don’t see why that matters.”

“Kelvin,” Judy groans, “you were in the nursery because you were nursery age. Who else were you going to be with? You were pretty much glued to Momma’s pretty dresses from the moment you were born.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t help Momma out! She said it herself. Called me her little helper.” He crosses his arms. “And the kids _ do _like me, you know. I make God fun for them. Jesse’s boring sermons don’t do that.”

“Fine, okay, the youth group kids all like you. No one's saying they don't.”

"Good. Thank you."

They settle into what constitutes a comfortable silence between them. Any time they don’t end a conversation (or argument) swearing is a win. Kelvin watches as Judy turns off the back road towards town. If she were driving like normal she probably could have caught up with their Daddy. Kelvin’s thankful she’s showing some restraint.

“The rose ceremony looked nice.”

“What’s that?”

“The rose ceremony. The one _ I _wanted.” Judy’s focused on the road; Kelvin isn’t sure whether it’s because of potential road hazards or humility. “I watched a recording cause I wanted to tease you. Maybe get some stills of you making a dumb face, but it was nice.”

“Well, thank you.” He gets a little warm and cozy feeling. “Didn’t expect you to ever say anything nice about that.”

“Yeah, and your weirdo friend didn’t do anything embarrassing neither.” She laughs. “Where's he been? Haven’t seen him since I saw his dick.”

That little cozy feeling turns to ice. “We’re amicably separated while I figure some things out.”

“Oh.”

“Just got a lot of things going on with the family. And with whatever Daddy wants.”

“Right.” She slaps the steering wheel, making Kelvin jump. “To hell with Daddy.” She turns to him, and Kelvin swears he sees just a bit of their Momma in the way her eyes go all fierce and bright, like a holy flame. “Kelvin Gemstone, you are gonna march into our Daddy’s office and you are gonna tell him just what you told me. Whatever this meeting was about, it's about what _ you _want now.”

"Um, what now?"

"You're right, okay? And I know how that feels. Daddy thinking what you do don't matter, or that you're 'unstable' or some other bullshit." Kelvin can feel the car lurch as she presses on the gas. The corners she's taking, Jesus God and Mary, he hopes they're all listening to his prayers. "Thinking you better stay in your _ place_!"

"Judy, oh Jesus please," he clenches his jaw so tight it pops as she corners real close to a lamp post. "Please let us arrive safely Jesus, and I'm sorry about any names in vain but I think they're under- Judy there's pedestrians!"

"My driving is _ fine_, Kelvin! Don't be a baby."

"Oh Judy, Jesus C, Judy I don't want to die!"

"You ain't gonna die," she scoffs, nearly takes another person out on the crosswalk. Or at least it sure feels like she almost did.

"Can you please just slow down!" Kelvin closes his eyes. He doesn't want to stare death in the face when Judy sends them into the side of a building. "If we aren't gonna die someone outside this car is _ bound _to. Don't think Daddy will want any of us back if that happens."

And praise be to He, the car slows. Kelvin unclenches everything, from his hand above his head to his thighs, which he didn't realize were braced for impact until he tries to shift them and they don't respond.

"Can you pull over?" He whimpers. "Judy, I think I'm gonna puke."

She scoffs, and takes a sharp turn into the parking lot of a Dollar Store. Kelvin's stomach lurches, but he breathes nice and slow, and eventually the urge passes. When he turns his head towards Judy, he finds her pouting in the driver's seat with her arms crossed.

"I think you might've been projecting a bit," Kelvin says quietly.

"Kelvin, if Daddy don't see the value in what you do, then he definitely doesn't see the value in my work."

"Didn't see." She thumps him. "I'm just saying! Right now none of us are working."

"Which is why you're gonna march in there, and you're gonna un-fire yourself."

"What?"

"You're gonna un-fire yourself, Kelvin. And you're gonna make Daddy see how important your work is." She nods, and Kelvin feels helpless enough to nod back. "It'll work."

"Right, okay." Kelvin sits up in his seat. "Sure."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"I'm going in there-"

"You're _ marching _in there. Do it with purpose."

"Yeah, yeah," now he's feeling it, "I'll march right in there and say, Daddy-"

"Yeah you tell him."

"Daddy, what I do is important. It is _ vital_," ("oh yeah that's good") "and without me, this church will suffer."

"Yeah, and then you'll say the same thing about me."

"I'll - Judy."

"It's _ important _Kelvin!"

He sputters a bit. "I-I can't just bring you up out of nowhere, Judy. It's gotta feel genuine, or he won't listen to a word of it."

"Fine, you're right," she sighs. "But if I come up organically you gotta put in a good word."

"Alright, I will." She glares at him. "I mean it! If he brings you up, or if I see an opening I guess. But I'm not making any promises."

"Thank you Kelvin." She smiles, and even though he jumps a bit when she lunges at him it's just a hug, and a nice one at that. One he's happy to return. "You're gonna stand up for yourself. He'll like that."

"Yeah." He pulls back and fixes the twist in his seat belt. "What about Jesse?"

"To hell with him. When's the last time he did anything for us?"

"Right, you're _ so _ right." He holds out a hand, and Judy takes it. "I better feel you praying for me."

"You're gonna knock him dead."

"Well, I'd very much not like that while we're still technically fired." She laughs. "I'm gonna blow him away."


	3. Chapter 3

Kelvin feels the righteous power of the Lord coursing through his veins as he strides the long hall leading to Daddy's office. He knocks, three thunderous booms cutting through the lull of the church offices on an off day.

"Come in," his daddy calls, and Kelvin pushes in the door. His mouth is hanging open, ready to speak his mind, but he's struck dumb when he finds they aren't alone. "Ah, Kelvin. Why don't you take a seat. Martin's making me fill out some more forms for the insurance people."

"I'm sure they'll be appreciative, Dr. Gemstone."

"I'm sure too, with how much they charge." He shakes his head. "Sit, Kelvin. This could take awhile."

"A-alright, Daddy." Kelvin plants himself in the middle cushion of the couch, and try as he might he can't stop the fury from flowing right out of him. His hands feel shaky; he clasps them in front of him and bends forward. If either his daddy or Martin inquires, he can just say he's praying instead of shaking in his boots.

"Here, and they would like some additional details here."

"If I give them any more details I might as well write a book on the damn thing." His daddy sighs, one of those real tired ones, like when be caught wind of Kelvin's little business plan. Even now, the memory of it makes him cringe. "There. That should hold them off for a day or two."

"A pleasure, as always," Martin jokes. "I'll send it right away."

"Thank you Martin." He shifts in his chair, making it squeak as the wood settles. "Kelvin, I'm ready for you."

Kelvin gulps, "yes Daddy."

"Come on over here," he gestures to the other chairs closer to the desk. "There's no need to talk from across the room."

Kelvin keeps himself low as he gets up from the couch and slips into the rightmost chair. He folds his hands on his lap. "Daddy, I-"

"Closer," he interrupts, coaxing Kelvin to awkwardly scoot the heavy chair close. He holds out his hands, and Kelvin takes them. He always expects them to be so rough and worn with how many lives he's helped mold, but they're soft and warm. A wordsmith's hands. Momma was the one getting calluses. "Pray with me a little, Kelvin."

"Okay, Daddy." He waits for words, or maybe a little nudge that _ he's _supposed to say something, but his daddy bows his head, and Kelvin copies him. Whatever this is, it doesn't feel bad, and he doesn't want to sully it with any blathering.

He just prays this won't get him a slap, over and over until his daddy clears his throat. They separate, but Kelvin stays leaning on the desk.

"This family has been through the ringer," his daddy says sagely.

"It sure has." Kelvin moves to cross his arms, intending to rest his chin there, but that doesn't command respect. He sits up straight on the edge of his seat. Daddy's still taller, even sitting low in his office chair. "Darn it, Jesse." One of Daddy's brows raises, and Kelvin's quick to add, "I sure am kicking myself for not telling you I knew sooner."

"No," he sighs, "your heart was in the right place."

"Um, it was?"

"I understand the desire to shield your family from negative consequences," he continues. "Even when they are the cause." He claps a hand over Kelvin's. "I am not firing you. You may have appeared misguided, but if the Lord had wanted things differently, then they would be."

"Th-thank you," he places his hand on top of the stack of his and Daddy's. "It felt wrong, keeping things from you. Judy agreed with me," he adds. Fishing, but just a little.

"Judy is not without her sins," he sighs. So that road's still closed. _ Sorry Judy_. At least he tried, which is more than Jesse can say. "The doors to the church are not permanently closed to her."

Kelvin nods, "God forgives her."

"Of course he does," Daddy says, and he pulls his hand free from Kelvin's and folds them over his stomach. "It's me who hasn't been won over just yet." _ Oh_. "Let's not dwell on unpleasantries. I called you here so we can discuss your future in the church."

"Oh," Kelvin does a little squirm of excitement. "I'm all ears, Daddy."

"I never got the chance to comment on the rose ceremony," he explains. He starts digging through one of the drawers of his desk and produces a little stack of papers. "Now, don't look so worried," he teases. Teases! Oh, this is going to be good. "I have a giant stack here of compliments. A lot of wonderful new members made a point of telling Martin they felt so welcome. Now what did Martin say to me," he trails off, chuckling, "ah, some beautiful women made a point of commenting on the nice, handsome young man giving them beautiful flowers."

Kelvin grins, "they were beautiful flowers. Gotta give the florist a big tip."

"Your Momma always did say she could see you going places." Kelvin bites his lower lip, but it doesn't do a thing to hide his smile. Daddy's smiling just as big. "In the next couple of days, after the dust settles, we're going to have a long sit down and hammer out some of the finer details."

"Yes sir," Kelvin's practically _ glowing_. Gosh, his argument is being made _ for _him. And he's getting more than he wanted! He can't wait to tell Keefe.

_ Oh_.

"I'd keep this news between us for now. Wouldn't want any repeats of the last time you got something Judy wanted."

"Right." It's like, it's like he's _ empty_. "I uh, Daddy I got some stuff I need to do."

"Go," he waves him off, still jovial and happy and painfully unaware that Kelvin is disintegrating right before his eyes. "I know you'll make me proud, son."

"Uh huh," Kelvin gets up on shaky legs and beelines out of the office, turning the corner into the bathroom just in time to be dramatically, violently ill.

-

In a rare moment of kindness Judy doesn't pester Kelvin when he staggers to her car and drops into the seat like a bag of rocks. She doesn't even ask, wrongly assuming Kelvin's little chat with Daddy went real South. It went great. Better than great. He has everything he ever wanted.

He's never been more miserable.

"I'm sure he'll listen when he's in a better mood," she offers.

"Maybe," he mumbles. "Judy, can you drop me off at that ice cream place by the warehouse district?"

"Getting a little pick me up?" she teases.

"Something like that."

He doesn't invite her to tag along, and praise be to He she took the hint from his request. Kelvin steps inside and gets behind a couple of teenagers taking a selfie in front of the chalkboard menu. It's a newer place with a very small, very oddly specific menu. The only constant is the house vanilla. Keefe gets it every time, even if the other flavors sound enticing.

Kelvin orders two vanilla cones, no sprinkles, no fancy cacao nibs. It's a little more plain Jane than he likes, but nothing on the toppings menu called to him like they normally do.

He backs out of the store and crosses the street to a block half filled with brick apartment buildings and a set of run down townhomes with peeling paint and yards full of weeds. It's not that it's bad; Daddy talked about buying up some land out here to build a satellite location. Keefe once called it cozy, or maybe he said intimate. The apartment he rents on the top floor of the building on the corner sure is, uh, _ intimate_.

It's a teeny tiny one bedroom. But the building is well maintained, and Keefe doesn't have any roommates. Plus up until yesterday Keefe's been staying at Kelvin's place infinitely more than his own.

("You know, we can just make it official," Kelvin jokes.

"Nah," Keefe swats the offer away like a gnat. "We all need our own space, amigo. Mine's just not needed as often.")

Kelvin's regretting getting himself a cone; the more he looks at the melty surface the more his stomach flips.

He shoulders his way in the front door and hikes up three flights of stairs, all while keeping his cones from flying out of his hands. After an eon and yet somehow also far too fast he's standing in front of Keefe's door, apt 1313. Double unlucky, Keefe once said. Kelvin still doesn't know if he was joking.

He elbows the doorbell and steps back, schooling his face to look less droopy and sad in the reflection of the peephole. When the door opens he expects Keefe, but there's a much taller person in his place.

"Uh," great, just wonderful. He went to the wrong building. "Sorry, I uh, I was looking for someone," he trials off when he spots Keefe behind this giant stranger. "Keefe?"

"Hi. You might remember Daedalus," Keefe says, gesturing to the man.

Kelvin gives the man another once over. There's the edges of familiarity, but he's fairly certain last time he met a 'Daedalus' there was some face paint involved. And naked people, and drugs, which he did not like one bit.

"Ah, I know what this is," Daedalus says. Kelvin doesn't know. He doesn't see why this guy should. "You're the Bible guy."

"I am a youth pastor," he snits.

"I was on my way out," Daedalus smooths Kelvin over, unsuccessfully. _ Good _ , he thinks. _ Good and great, the Lord don't want your influence getting all up in Keefe's business anyway. _ Kelvin side steps to let him leave. "Later."

_ Never _.

He feels a fog lift when Keefe approaches. He's shirtless, like he always seems to be when he isn't at church or youth group. He never thought he'd miss a faded satanic tattoo like he has.

Keefe glances into the hall after Daedalus. "He's been getting my mail from the PO box, since I was hardly home."

"Cool, alright." Makes sense, nothing too fishy there.

"It's not a lot. Mostly bills. I did almost miss a coupon for pre sliced cheese. The good kind."

"Good deal. Gotta treat yourself right," Kelvin says.

He hates this. No, he loves the chatter, the easy way Keefe tells him all these mundane things Kelvin has no reference for. It's just not what he needs to say right now. "I went to Scoops."

"Nice." He hands one to Keefe, who is genuinely, pleasantly baffled that Kelvin isn't turning to gluttony and eating both cones. "Oh, also nice."

"We need to celebrate," he says, "but also a peace offering. I know I, uh, drunkenly said this already, but I'm real sorry about all that yelling. Very much not a God-like thing to do."

"You did apologize, a whole lot," Keefe's eyes get real wide, like the memory of Kelvin's drunken antics is that shocking even after a whole day has passed. "I forgive you."

"Well, you took good care of me and you didn't have to, so this is also a thank you." He still can't look at his own cone, but he smiles when Keefe takes a bit of his. "Can I come in? I'm itching to share my news."

"Well," Keefe looks a little past Kelvin, "maybe it's best we stay here."

"Alright, whatever you want, bud," Kelvin feels his lungs shattering, but he understands. Things still feel a bit tender to him too. "So, as you know my family's been going through some stuff."

"Just doesn't seem right," Keefe sighs.

"Right, but I think those times are past us," Kelvin insists. "See, my daddy, he called me to his office, and - so you gotta know first he fired us all" - there's those wide eyes again - "right, I know, but he not only unfired me, he said he saw me going places. Me! Jesse's got him feeling real sore about how Easter went down, and Judy, well," he trails off, "so, yeah. And I wanted to tell you right away, cause I think we're in the clear. So you can come back and hang out, like old times."

Kelvin, he feels _ giddy _ , because he and Judy confessed, and sort of Jesse though he didn't want to, and things got _ better _ . _ That's _ why the Lord was upset with Kelvin, not because he's best friends with a guy who used to dance naked in public. Forgiveness, that's like, rule number one when you start going to Sunday school.

"See," Keefe shifts a little, and Kelvin can't remember the last time Keefe hesitated to speak when it's just them. "Well, I had some time to think, and I think maybe you were right. The first time, I mean, what with me being a bad influence. You got your good news after I left."

"Oh, n-no I'm pretty sure it's other stuff." Other, _ unnameable _stuff. "Not you, buddy. If anything I was a bad influence on you."

"That's nice of you to say."

"Well, I mean it too." _ Please, please don't _. His hopes, and about a third of his ice cream, are melting to the floor.

"See, it's like, it's like shingles. Like I said."

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I said it better in the letter."

"I didn't get any letter, bud."

"I put it under the pill bottle." The one Kelvin sent flying. "I'm sorry about all the cross outs. I just wanted to get it right."

_ Get what right? _ He thinks, but he knows. Keefe's staying here; he already made up his mind last night. "Okay, well, the offer stands. You're," he gulps, "you're my best friend. Any time you want to come over, you're welcome to, even if I didn't say so that day."

"Thanks. It has been hard to have some me time today. Daedalus is crashing on my couch."

"O-oh, why? Why's he doing that?"

"His apartment's getting worked on. Air's temporarily not safe to breathe." Keefe sighs. "It worked alright when I stayed at your place, but it should be temporary."

"Ah," Kelvin nods, "drugs?"

"Asbestos."

"Oh." Kelvin squirms, tries and probably fails to make his fears a joke. "Well, I sure hope he's not dragging you out to Club Sinister."

"I wouldn't call it dragging." Keefe shrugs a shoulder. His own ice cream, equally forgotten, drops a little onto the floor.

"Keefe? Are you going out there?"

"Tonight," he nods. "Cryptocore has a new mix. I promised I'd come listen."

"Right on, supporting friends," he chokes. "It's just," he sniffs, clears the crud from his throat, "it's just that, you've been doing real good at not doing things that would make God sad. I'd hate to see you back slide. Can you just promise me you'll be safe?"

"I'll do my best."

"I know." He's just, he's so scared. Because Keefe tries so hard but sometimes it's not enough. Not without help.

"You're gonna do good things," Keefe says. There's a reverence, even now, in the way he regards Kelvin. "There's always been this light about you. It's gonna shine. I know it."

"Thanks." Kelvin can't stand it, he steps in and pulls Keefe into a hug. One armed, mostly, because he thought this would be a happy, ice cream kind of day. "Sorry," he pulls back, "I just, here," he thrusts his ice cream into Keefe's open hand and starts running away. There's no pool to back flop into, but he'll be damned to Hell before he lets Keefe see him cry over this.


	4. Chapter 4

Kelvin waits for Judy in a grimy back alley behind Scoops. There’s something dripping from one of the drains even though it hasn’t rained in at least a day, and it smells like rot and sour milk. He hasn’t eaten all day, or he’d be adding his own personal touch to all the nasty.

He can see Keefe’s apartment from this spot, but not anything past the curtains. But he likes to imagine Keefe sneaking a little peak, and being the only one perceptive enough to know it’s Kelvin down here, despondent and just a little dirty, and to bring him inside and loan him some less stinky clothes before firing up his Netflix account.

Instead, Judy pulls up to the edge of the alley. Kelvin scrambles up, nearly falls flat on his face (if he had that’s it for him, he’s lying there until God welcomes him home to be with Momma and the rest of the angels), and he freezes when he sees she’s gotten out of the car.

“Shit, Kelvin, the ice cream was supposed to make you feel better.” He sniffs, and uses his clean palm to wipe up his face. “You get mugged or something? Some big bad bully took your cone?”

“No,” he whines. “Judy I-I-”

She groans, “come on, you big baby,” she rounds the car and opens the door for him, and starts funneling him into the seat. “Don’t get any of your snot on the seats. BJ and me just had to get this one detailed.”

"Do you have any hand wipes or, or something like that?"

"What," she snorts, "you been giving someone a back alley handy?"

"It's ice cream," he mopes down at his sticky hand. "It sort of melted."

"That's because you're supposed to eat it, dummy." She leans over and pops open the glove box. Inside Kelvin sees some awful stuff that he refuses to process fully, but Judy fishes out a little single use hand wipe and a pack of those travel tissues. He knees it shut before he can blink anything else into focus.

"Buckle up," she commands. After wiping his hand of the mess he complies, and she accelerates away from the alley.

"Daddy's being a real jackass," she says sharply, and takes a turn the same way.

"Judy-"

"I mean, look at you. He's got you so worked up ice cream didn't fix it. Ice cream, Kelvin! It fixes everything!"

"Judy, I-"

"I mean, Jesus, you're a hot mess, honey. Got yourself all worked up over whatever he yelled at you about-"

"Judy, I'm unfired!" He snaps. "He unfired me," he repeats, softer. The tears are really starting to flow, just when he finally got them to stop. "And, and I tried bringing you up. I did," he flinches, though she didn't even move her eyes off the road, "but, but he said it was just me. And he said I was going places, Judy. That he wanted to talk more later about where I'm going in the church." He blows his nose and crushes the tissue in his hands. "And for a minute I was so happy. I'm sorry, I know you want it too but so did I. I got so excited, and I," he pauses, he doesn't understand the next part, it's so hazy. "I wanted to tell Keefe. I've been complaining to him about this sort of thing for ages now."

"So tell him," she says, "duh."

"I did. I did, that's why we were out here. His apartment's back there," Kelvin turns in his seat, trying to catch just a glimpse of it. "And I said things are good again, and I'm done with my introspecting, but," he sobs, "but I broke it, Judy. I broke something, and I don't know how to fix it." He curls up real small sideways in the seat with his legs pressed up against the middle console. "I don't think he's coming back."

Judy's quiet for a long time. She finds him the tissues, and at one point awkwardly pats his head. She's not just Judy quiet when she speaks; Kelvin can hardly hear her over his histrionics. "I don't know what you broke," she says, "and I don't know how to fix it. I've never been good at that part. But if you'd like, we could do like we did when Momma was sick. Find some cheesy feel-good movie Jesse always made fun of you for liking."

"Okay," he croaks. He could do with some happy endings, even if they aren't for him.

-

Kelvin wakes up alone in his lonely bedroom. He knew Keefe was onto something when he said Kelvin's bed is lonely for one person, but he didn't know just how thick and choking the air gets in the house when he's the only one filling every space. Even Judy's presence had been a welcome relief while it lasted.

He hopes Keefe didn't wake up as lonely. Even if the reason is because that giant pain in Kelvin's side slept on his couch last night.

Judy didn't leave him any water or notes; she hardly said goodbye when she got wind of BJ being at the gate. He kept watching movies in his theatre room, wishing he'd get a similar call from security.

He didn't.

Kelvin rolls to the other side of the bed and buries his face in the pillow. He should have told the maids not to bother with changing his sheets. At least they would have smelled familiar and not all starched and clean, but also very clinical and unwelcoming.

He rolls back, and keeps going until he's seated on the edge of his bed. The pills are all cleaned up, swept away along with the empty water glass from his night stand. If there really was a letter, which he does not doubt, it's probably gone with them. Daddy's been a stickler about letters with no return addresses. Safety concerns and whatnot.

Still, he checks behind the stand and underneath the bed. Nothing.

He gets dressed in some clothes he does not care about, because he's about to go dumpster diving and with BJ around he genuinely fears what he might find in his family's trash. He can sacrifice this particular pair of jeans to the garbage. He sincerely hopes he won't have to dive deep enough to lose his shirt too, but he will if he must.

But he doesn't have to. He doesn't even get out the door. Something, some divine influence, tugs his attention towards the stacks of fan mail piled up on the edge of his island counter. He's been neglecting it lately, had too many other things on his mind to dedicate his focus to another gaggle of women vying for his attention. Martin's a liar; he said if Kelvin mentioned his celibacy on his website bio that this would _ stop_, but it's only gotten worse.

He's a man of God, not of God and also a wife and whatever number of kids she insists on having.

He doesn't hate kids. He likes them, actually, but he doesn't really think they're in the cards if it comes with his own version of Amber. No thank you.

On top of one of the offending piles he finds a letter with Keefe's inhumanly neat writing. It's addressed to Kelvin Gemstone, and just seeing his full name shouldn't matter, but it makes his chest feel tight.

He tears into it, and finds a single sheet of computer paper trifolded, with words on one side. As Keefe said, there's a whole mess of crossouts, so dark and thick Kelvin can't make out any of the letters beneath.

His hands are shaking, and he gets a paper cut on his left pointer as he unfolds the letter. Faux-swearing, he sticks it in his mouth and starts to read.

_ Kelvin, _

_ I think this is goodbye. _ (He whimpers. That's it for him, he doesn't need the rest, but he keeps on taking in each carefully crafted word.) _ We both have _ (a _ huge _ wall of black pen) _ things we're meant to do, people we're meant to be. You're a light in the darkness, and that's gotta be something everyone can see. _

_ And I'm ( _ oh Keefe that's a whole _ inch _ of the page gone) _ only holding you back. _

_ So, there's a virus that causes chicken pox in kids. It's pretty harmless, but it stays in you. Latency. Most of the time it stays that way, but it can turn into this thing called Shingles, and it's real painful and harder to treat. _

_ I think that's me. The badness was latent, but there's someone that'll always be able to see it even if it's dormant. I don't want you catching it from me. There's no vaccine for bad. _

_ You'll be okay. _ ( _ Liar! _ Kelvin screams in his head. He tastes copper.) _ I don't want you feeling bad. You were always _ (splotch, big rectangle, Kelvin can almost make out what might be the word friend) _ real welcoming and supportive. It just wasn't a good fit. _

_ I just belong somewhere else. _

_ x Keefe _

So, that's it then. The end.

It feels like those days in the hospital when the doctors stopped talking about praying and being optimistic and started using words like "comfortable" and "pain management". It feels like a vast and empty nothing.

He wants to tear the letter to pieces and throw it in the trash.

He wants to curl up in bed for the rest of his life and never show his face again.

He wants to drink every bottle of wine in his house, Judy's house, and Jesse's house combined.

He wants to run to Keefe and shake him, to grab him by the shoulders and scream, "how dare you?". And also to hold him tight and never let go.

Kelvin does none of these things.

His phone chimes, youth group starts in an hour. He needs to leave now if he wants to get there fifteen minutes early.

Kelvin folds up the letter and sets it on the counter so the salutation is the only thing visible.

_ x Keefe _


	5. Chapter 5

Kelvin settles cross legged in the middle of the floor before the first few early birds start filing into the youth room. A handful of them sit with him in a loose circle, watching him expectantly, but they lose interest when he doesn't initiate any sort of circle prayer. Most of the kids have their routines, which don't involve moping on the floor when there's a foosball table and board games and friends.

"Cherish what the Lord has given you," he tells the room. A couple kids side eye him, but most of them aren't heeding his wisdom. Fine, let them fall into their own pits of despair. See if he cries over their loss.

Given the chance to look back Kelvin wouldn't know which came first, the solid thunk against his forehead or a plaintive cry of "look out!" from the foosball table, but the end result is the same. Kelvin rubs the spot and watches the ball roll away and end up underneath a table, and Dot parts the crowd in order to scowl down at Kelvin with her hands on her hips.

"Kelvin, can we talk?"

"Sure," he sighs, "why not?" He stumbles onto his feet and follows Dot into the hall. Just before he leaves the kids unattended he points to one of the more friendly faced security guards and declares, "he's in charge," just in case some kids get a little mischief in their hearts.

"Now, I've been told I got this God-like light in me, but it's feeling a little dim today, so if I'm not the inspiration you're looking for to keep from straying from Jesus Christ I can direct you towards a prayer circle or something to combat the Devil's influence."

Dot only stares at him, a little thunderstruck, no doubt. "Kelvin, I only come to youth group because you helped me out, and you're somehow sort of cool, but in the lame way that you don't want to be seen with in public."

"Wow, Dot, you sure know how to make a guy feel better." He shoves his hands into his sweatshirt pockets. "I guess I'm just a little down, see, my friend Keefe, the one that's usually here helping me with group, is leaving the church."

"So that's a deal breaker for you?"

"I uh, I don't follow."

"Uh huh," she crosses her arms, "so you and your boyfriend had some sort of fight, and he's leaving?"

"I-," he takes a deep breath, "he was my _ partner_, Dot. As I have said."

"Whatever you want to call him."

"What?" He sputters. "Dot Nancy, I am a little down because we are losing a soul to evil influences. But I am not, I'm not depressed or whatever you seem to think. I am _ fine_. We'll all move on eventually."

“Kelvin, I just watched you get hit in the head with a foosball. You barely moved."

"It wasn't that hard." She whips out her phone, which is very rud- oh, she's got her fancy front facing camera on to use as a mirror. Kelvin bends down a bit to get a look at his forehead, and the nasty red mark already developing. "Oh, dang. You think it's gonna swell up?"

"Might."

"Alright, well," Kelvin looks around. "There's a first aid box near the bathrooms."

He opens up the box and grabs one of those squeeze activated ice packs from the shelf. He gives it a good pop and shakes the contents before sliding it inside his sweatshirt sleeve and holding it up to his head.

Dot gestures to the bench running along the floor to ceiling windows. "We can sit."

"Yeah, okay," Kelvin agrees. He claims the spot next to the wall so he can lean back against it, and Dot sits sideways so she can face him.

Kelvin means to say something like, I'll just miss his help, or maybe a little more heartfelt, like, I'll miss his friendship, but he doesn't do either of those. He starts crying, just when he thought that phase was finally over, and Dot jumps in her seat but she doesn't run off. Kelvin wipes at his face with his free hand.

"I don't know what to do," he whisper-whines.

"You could," she grimaces, he must be a sight, "talk to him?"

"I did, Dot, I did talk to him." He shakes his head. "It didn't do anything. Got any other great ideas?"

"I don't know, Kelvin, I'm fifteen!" She tips her head to one side, thinking. "Whenever I've lost a," she pauses, "_ friend_, it always felt like the world was ending."

Oh, to be fifteen again. They feel everything so strongly! "Yeah, what did you do?"

"I talked with my mom." Well, not exactly a viable option. "She's a lot sometimes, but I don't know. She's gotta be right some of the time. And just talking helped, even if she really didn’t. Then I didn’t keep it all pent up inside."

"Those are some very fine points, Dot Nancy." He uses his sleeve to wipe at his eyes. "You just might have a knack for this sort of thing."

"For listening to my youth leader cry over his friend?"

"Very communicable skill."

"I'd rather not get used to it if I have a say."

"I'll be okay." And he will, he's got to be. The rest of his life can't be like this. Keefe's just special; Kelvin knew that about him from the day they met. "He's just my best friend. I can always wrangle up another one of those."

"Sure," she laughs. He likes this new Dot Nancy, who gets to just be herself without feeling like she needs to act older than fifteen. "Those are easy to come by."

Except, no, they aren't. Not for Kelvin, whose face has been a known entity in this town his whole life. Keefe never judged him for eating candy and liking video games, heck he likes them too. But he can't talk to Daddy about this; Momma was always the one to soothe his worries and help him work through whatever bothered him.

"Dot, you've been a real help. Can you do one more thing for me?"

"Sure."

"Thanks. Alright, go into the youth room and tell the security guard I had something important come up." He gets up, and holds up a hand. "Nothing bad, no need to call parents. The kids will entertain themselves today."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna talk to my momma." He nods. "It's real important."

"Okay?" She laughs uneasily. "Good luck, I guess."

"I don't need luck, Dot." He smiles. "I got the Lord on my side."

At least he hopes so.

-

The sun’s starting to set by the time Kelvin reaches the gardens with Momma’s statue; his ice pack has gone warm and he’s nearly gotten cold feet. But he’s there all alone. He’s heard Daddy comes out here alone often, Jesse and Judy too, but he’s never done it himself.

“Sorry,” is the first thing springing forth from his gaping maw. “I, I always meant to come a lot sooner, I just don’t know what to say.”

He prays to God and also Jesus for her statue to start talking back, like his real momma would. She’d bring him in real close, even when he was too old and too big to fit on her lap, and whisper, so the words were just his, hers, and God’s.

“I just miss you,” he says. He blinks real fast. “I miss how _ you _ always knew what to say, and how to make things right even when they weren’t. Things have been real crazy without you.”

He tucks his hands into his sweatshirt and squeezes his elbows close. Nothing will ever replace one of her hugs.

“Daddy says I’m ready to do more for the church, like you always said I would.” He shrugs a shoulder. “I used to think that was all I ever wanted. Didn’t want a girlfriend, or a wife. I had you, and I had God, and that was enough. It used to be enough.”

“I, I lost someone else recently. He’s not dead, but,” Kelvin sucks in a breath, “but it sure feels like it. I can’t convince him to come back to the church, or even just to me. He’s my best friend, or he was. He thinks I’ll do great things too, but nothing feels great without him. It feels real crappy, actually. Sorry ‘bout the swearing.” He smiles briefly. “Momma, you know crap isn’t a real swear word, I used to say, and you’d say, Kelvin it’s a gateway. You let a little of those bad words in and next thing you know you’re swearing like a sailor.”

“And then Judy would get all angry in the other room and say some _ real _swears, and you’d thank God that at least one of your kids was like you.” He sighs. “I think you might’ve been wrong a little bit, though, because Judy is like you, just all the fiery parts and not so many of the calm, motherly parts. She’s been trying, though. Sort of.”

He looks at her statue, willing it to life, but it’s no use. It’s just fancy bronze, or maybe some sort of stone. There’s always been one thing Kelvin wanted different on Momma’s statue; He misses those big ol’ glasses she used to wear. She said they went out the same time the church ladies stopped getting perms, but they were just so _ her_. Nothing brightened his day like seeing her lively eyes from behind those specs. They seemed dimmer, after she stopped wearing them. He never asked why.

“I know you can’t give me advice now,” he says. He needs to come out here more often; he’s getting distracted. “Momma, I’m feeling kind of stupid, standing out here. See, this girl Keefe and I helped - I guess you probably saw that but anyway - Dot said she always talked to her mom about losing friends. Said it was like the end of the world, and she might be onto something. It just feels so bad, Momma. And we didn’t even say things like, I’m not your friend, or really fight. I yelled, and I know I shouldn’t have, but he forgave me for that. But shouldn’t that mean we’re okay?”

“I just wish you could make me feel better. Like how you’d say, Kelvin there are people who will like you for you. I liked that one.” He can hear her voice, that country kid lilt coming out when one of her babies was wibbling about something. “And how, the things that make me different are what make me special. God made me this way. He,” Kelvin blinks, “he filled my heart full of love, and when I find that someone,” he laughs, “oh, Momma, I’m sorry you raised such a dummy.”

And now that he’s started, he can’t stop laughing. Gosh, really? Really really?

Kelvin grew up hearing stories of fireworks and sparks, and all sorts of hooey, because this? It’s like breathing, and without Keefe he feels like he’s drowning.

Gosh dang it, he’s in love.

“But, Momma, that doesn’t _ fix _ anything,” he wails. “Daddy’s still out there expecting me to be front and center in the church. Keefe’s, gosh, I really hope he’s not at Club Sinister, Momma, but he probably is. All his old friends still go there like it’s this awesome, great place. But it _ sucks_, sometimes very literally, and it’s all dark and dirty. I think the only reason God hasn’t struck it down is because it’s basically Hell on earth, the big H one, and he’s not touching that.”

“And I’m starting to feel like maybe I’m supposed to choose, like this is some big test from God. But those are usually easy, and right now I don’t know which path he wants me to take.”

Things would be so much easier if they could just go back to how things were, but they sure as heck wouldn’t be any better.

“Alright, okay, you’re always telling me God made me this way.” Kelvin nods to himself, this is all coming together. “So, so if he made this way, and he isn’t cruel, then he wouldn’t give me something like this and not want me to have it, right?”

Unless Keefe really is just a temptation, but no, no sir, even drunk Kelvin managed to piece that part together. No, Keefe is good, and he is kind, and he is probably dancing naked in a cage right now but no one said he was immune to peer pressure, especially without Kelvin there to help find something a little more wholesome for them to do together.

Gosh, he really is a dummy.

“So, that’s all fine and good, but I still don’t know what you expect me to do about Daddy-” his phone starts ringing, Momma’s voice blaring in the garden as her most recent iteration of ‘Misbehavin’’ fills the silence. He set it as his ‘Scam Likely’ ringer ages ago. “I swear over half the calls,” he stops, and he listens to his uncle and momma, “oh,” he smirks, “well, that sure is an idea.”


	6. Chapter 6

"Lord, I know you already know this, but I just want to reassure you that while what I'm about to do may seem a little drastic, it is truly the only way for me to continue to do your will. Also, I may have to invoke the Devil a bit, but I'd like to look at it as play acting. There is no sincerity in my heart for the evil influences that seek to thwart you." Kelvin bows his head a little deeper. "I would also be very appreciative if you can look after Keefe until I can get to him myself. Praise be to you, amen."

Kelvin adjusts his rear view mirror to get one last look at himself. Momma would lament his hair the most. She fell in love with his bangs the second she saw them styled up. Said he was revitalizing the 'higher the hair, closer to God' movement for a younger generation.

He's not sure where she stands on eye liner. Judy certainly won't like that he swiped hers, but she can just button up, because the things he found in her master bathroom would make the exibitionists at Club Sinister blush. Letting him use her makeup is the least she can do.

Kelvin hops from the Jeep and readjusts his pants. He's still not sold on the clothing store Daedalus' Facebook recommended. Sure, the girl inside was more than happy to help update Kelvin's look, but he could've done with an outfit with a bit more mobility.

Daddy's sure to have a coronary over it though, or at least that's the plan.

He hones in on the big changeable sign by the East entrance to the main parking lot. It's not real flashy, but it's visible by all the important donors. There's already some rubbernecking as the cars start trickling into the lot for the Friday night donor's meeting.

The thing is, he doesn't want to do _ too _ much. There's a fine line between getting Daddy to fire him and getting him _ really _mad. So Kelvin starts tearing the individual letters off the sign and rearranges the post Easter message into 'Jesus sucks'. He doesn't have it in him to do something worse.

The next car has their window down, and Kelvin hears himself shout, "Hail Satan!" at them before he can stop himself. Quietly, after they're sped off, he whispers, "God and Jesus please forgive me. I'm just trying to be convincing."

There’s no forthcoming lightning strike/falling space object/wild and crazy driver plowing into him at top speed. Kelvin takes it as the tentative approval from the big man Himself. Still, he’s not going to push the envelope too far. No need to do anything crazy.

He takes a quick detour back to his Jeep and grabs a can of red spray paint. As he walks towards the main building he starts to whistle, filling the white noise of the parking lot with a cheerful rendition of ‘Misbehavin’’. He’s sure to point a couple of finger guns at a mother and her teenage daughter, and they rush towards the sanctuary or the, heh, sanctuary.

“Momma told me not to, I did anyway - gosh dang it Momma the Lord was working something magical through you that day.” He shakes the can, continuing to hum the next verse as he pops off the top and starts spraying the first giant number six on the side of the wall. As he’s putting the finishing touch on the curly bit at the end he turns to his left, and he drops the can when he finds Martin giving him the stankiest death glare he’s ever seen. Kelvin snaps to attention, ramrod straight.

“Your father requests your presence in his office,” he says curtly, “immediately.”

“Right, yes. That makes sense.” Kelvin bends over to pick up the can, “I’ll just,” and Martin’s _ stare _stops him dead, “or, I’ll just leave it.”

“That would be best.”

“Right.” Well, he certainly got Daddy’s attention. Martin gestures to the door and Kelvin starts his death march. He’s never, not once in his life, seen Martin manhandle anyone in any way, but that’s the only way to describe the grab he uses to steer Kelvin away from the main hall in favor of the service stairwell.

There’s no time to speak, there’s barely time to breathe before he’s standing just off to the side of Daddy’s office. In the same motion a gaggle of women burst through the office door, all in a huff about him no doubt, and Kelvin is whisked inside before any of them can turn around and get a good look at the deviant causing a scene at their place of worship.

No words are said for the first one, two, maybe even five minutes. There’s a fury so bright and terrifying in his daddy’s eyes that Kelvin shrinks into himself. He might have miscalculated the size of the coronary this would cause. From here, it was just a shade away from lethal.

“D-daddy I-”

“Kelvin the only thing keeping me from throttling you where you stand is the ten feet that separates us. For your sake, and Martin’s as a key witness to that declaration, I’d keep your damn mouth shut until you’re told to speak.”

“Yes Daddy,” he whispers.

“If you would do me a favor, Martin, and go make sure those ladies that were just in here are being tended to for their shock,” he sends his own death glare towards Kelvin, “and I’ll take care of matters in here.”

“Of course, Dr. Gemstone.” Kelvin doesn’t dare look him in the eye, he can feel the words sticking into him like giant ice shards. “May He guide your decisions.”

“Praise be to He,” he says warmly. He does not extend the same warmth and compassion to Kelvin. “I’d ask you to explain yourself if whatever nonsense you’re going to say wouldn’t infuriate me. A sign can be reworded, and already has, thanks to Martin’s quick action, but spray paint? On the house of the Lord? And that’s ignoring the unseen trauma you’ve caused some of our most important members.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” He squirms.

“You aren’t even close to sorry yet. Come here.” He does as he’s told, each step another nail in his coffin. As he comes to a stop to the left of his daddy’s chair he stands. Kelvin feels the slap before he’s even raised his hand, but it doesn’t prepare him for the sting. He should never have doubted his daddy’s strength. “Explain yourself, and this getup.”

“It’s,” he opens his mouth wide and it pops, “I was just,” he gulps. He can’t just _ say _it. “I-I’ve been feeling a call, Daddy. A uh, one of those great big temptations you and Momma always warned us about. The kind that gets you in all sorts of trouble with the Lord, but also with uh, you, specifically.”

Then, something smooths over between them. His daddy’s face loses that scary edge to it, and he chuffs. “I see what this is.”

“You, you do?”

“You’re feeling all sorts of pressure. That’s normal. One day, after I’m gone, you’re expected to lead these people the way I have, for your whole entire life. Self-sabotage is one of our greatest enemies.” He claps a hand on Kelvin’s shoulder, which absolutely did not make him flinch. “The Lord is always going to test you, Kelvin. It’s up to you to decide which path he truly wants you to take. But it was clear to your momma, and it’s clear to me, he wants you to lead.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Um, so the sign and the spray paint? That’s not going to turn the congregation off me?”

“We’ll put a proper explanation in the newsletter,” he explains. He sits, so the crisis is over, Kelvin failed. “See, parents hear of the dangers of Satanism and the Devil, but it’s so rare for them to get to see it up close. This was an interactive lesson. Hell, you might even see an uptick of kids coming in for your youth meetings after this.”

“Got an answer for everything,” Kelvin mutters.

“Spin is an important skill to learn,” he says. “Why, just about anything can become a lesson if you know what passage to tie it to.”

Kelvin nods. “Right, you’re so right, Daddy.” He takes in a deep breath. If this doesn't work nothing will. “I’m gay.” He blinks. “Or, well, that is what I am currently working with.”

There’s no fire, no old testament declarations about his soul and its level of damnation. His daddy stands back up and gestures to the window. Kelvin follows, intrigued but also sort of concerned he’s about to be thrown out said window. Daddy puts a hand across his shoulders.

“Your mother always was the perceptive one,” he sighs wistfully. Ah, he’s looking at the little tree dedicated to Momma. Someday it’ll have a billion blooms in the spring. For now it’s more like a couple thousand, but it’s trying. “She said she suspected as much.”

“Wh-” Kelvin sputters. “I don’t see why.”

“Like I said, perceptive.” He shakes his head. “I bet she’s looking mighty smug up on her cloud.”

“Well, Daddy it is _ my _declaration, and if that’s a deal breaker-”

“No, no of course not,” he turns Kelvin to him and grabs both his shoulders. “No one’s making you tell the congregation before you’re ready.”

“Oh,” well, now _ that’s _interesting. He might actually get to have it all. Cake, and eat it. Or in this case, boyfriend and, literally anything that isn’t eat.

“You had me worried today,” he says, shaking his head. _ What a fool I’ve been _, except Daddy’s never a fool. “And just when you were really starting to turn a corner.”

“What corner’s that?”

“Here, sit,” he brings Kelvin over to the couch, and actually sits on it with him. Usually he’s all about his desk chair, or standing tall. “I was saving these talks for later, but Martin informs me you’re already making positive changes to your image. You’re saving me the trouble.”

“I sure hope he doesn’t mean this,” Kelvin jokes.

“No,” his daddy laughs, a real belly shaker, if he had a belly to shake. “No, he tells me that tagalong friend of yours officially deactivated his key code for the gate to the compound.”

A shot of ice spreads down his back and shoulders. “And, and what part of that is positive, Daddy?”

“Kelvin,” he says it all soft and placating, “having a friend like him is fine when you’re in the shadows, but you need to consider one of the most important parts of a pastor is his relatability. Now, people will of course relate to you, but there is not a soul on earth that can relate to him.”

“Keefe,” Kelvin says. “His name’s Keefe.”

“And he was holding you back from your rightful place. My right hand man. Next in line.” He claps Kelvin’s back, and it about sends him sprawling to the floor. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea. We got a congregation in the thousands,” he says proudly. “Now, there is a benefit to going public a bit early. It might get you some fan mail from people you’re actually interested in.”

_ Like Keefe? _He thinks. He wants to scream.

He wants to go back to that parking lot and _ really _ make a scene. Turn those seven deadlies into a checklist for him to accomplish by the end of the day.

He wants to take his daddy by the ears and yell so loud he turns the rest of his hair white.

He wants to really rip him a new one, because _ this whole time _his being in love with a man was absolutely on the up and up, but not when it’s Keefe?

Yeah, he likes that option. He likes it a _ lot _. “Daddy, what would have happened if you knew about the blackmail earlier?”

“Kelvin, let’s not discuss unpleasantries.”

“But I _ want _ to,” he snaps. It startles Daddy into silence. First time for everything. “What if Judy or I went to you sooner? Or if Jesse had gone to you first thing?” He stands, because he’s fuming mad and his arms need to swing. “Would you have fired Jesse then? Would you have swept it under the rug? Would you have _ paid _them?”

“Kelvin, you best watch what you’re implying.”

“I’m just _ implying _, Daddy, that maybe this church is the one that’s not really heeding the word of God-” Daddy is up so fast and slapping him silly that Kelvin doesn’t even realize it’s coming until it’s already over. He blinks fast, but he’s no good at keeping his emotions in check when they’re already spilling out of him like the next great flood. “Fuck,” he whimpers.

“See that you start acting like the next leader of this church,” he says, “and less like a spoiled brat. Out of the three of you, I always thought your momma managed to teach you right. Don’t make me wrong about her, son, if you have any respect left for her at all.”

Kelvin waits until he’s nearly back to his desk before he speaks again. “No.”

“No?” Daddy turns back, incredulous. “No, you don’t respect your mother?”

“Maybe I don’t respect _ you _ anymore, Daddy,” he huffs. “I,” gosh he’s really letting the waterworks flow now, “I _ care _ about Keefe. I care a whole lot. But you’re, you’re saying it would be better if,” he shrugs, “if I went down to the corner gas and just grabbed the first guy I saw, declared him my boyfriend, and got married this afternoon? As long as he’s _ relatable _?”

“Kelvin Gemstone, I am keeping you from making the biggest mistake of your life. You are thinking of denouncing the Lord over that man. I can see it in your eyes.”

“No,” Kelvin shakes his head. “Daddy, I’m not choosing him over God. I just think I’m gonna try out being God’s disciple on _ my _terms.”

Here it is, the final in the holy trinity of slaps. Kelvin’s ready this time, he can see it coming. He braces himself, but his daddy doesn’t get past the windup. He drops his arm, and shakes his head sadly. “There’s no point,” he sighs. “Your soul’s already lost.”


	7. Chapter 7

Well, he got what he wanted.

At least he’s pretty sure being told his soul is lost is close enough to an actual firing. It hurts about as much as being fired did.

Honestly, he’s sort of over all the crying he’s been doing. He’s just thankful Judy had the sense to buy herself waterproof eyeliner. He can’t waste time trying to scrub cry lines off his face.

Kelvin makes it, oh, about a foot out the front door when he hears Judy’s piercing shriek from across the lot. “There he is!” followed by the scuttling of her and Jesse’s shoes on blacktop as they scurry over to him.

“Ho boy,” Jesse laughs, “Judy you were right. I’ll be _ damned _.”

“Why’re you here?” Kelvin snits. “Don’t you got anything better to do?”

“Not when you’re dressed like this,” Jesse snorts. “Your picture’s all over Facebook. Moms are throwing _ fits _.”

“Looks like you’re the black sheep now.” Judy says. She pulls out his phone and holds it up so Kelvin can see. Yeesh, not very flattering, especially when he’s tossing the word ‘sucks’ up on the sign. “I’ll bet Daddy slapped you so hard your head spun around. Although based on this getup that’s probably something you want.”

“And after he unfired you,” Jesse scoffs. “Yeah, Judy told me. Told me you’re the new golden boy.”

“Yeah, well maybe I don’t want to be unfired.” He puts his hands on his hips. “Maybe I’m dressed like this because I’m trying to get _ re _fired.”

“Kelvin, that’s just quitting.” He makes a face at Judy, and she makes one back. “Why the hell would you want to be fired? Or quit, or whatever.”

“I’m gay,” Kelvin snaps.

“Yeah, we know,” Jesse says, sending Judy some extreme side eye. “What’s that got to do with this?”

“Wh-” Kelvin shrieks, “what do you mean _ you know _ ? I didn’t _ tell _you before right now!”

“Well, you never had a girlfriend,” Judy says.

“And you made a whole big deal about making sure everybody knows you’re celibate.” Jesse chuffs. “Of course you’re celibate, you dummy. You ain’t married. If anything Judy’s the one that should be announcing to the world she’s a shameful harlot having sex out of wedlock.”

“Hey!” Judy elbows him. “At least I am _ engaged _to BJ, and I got the sense to not get pregnant before the wedding.”

“You better be telling the Lord you’re sorry for the hedonistic nightmare in your bathroom,” Kelvin says, “or at least have the sense to put it in a drawer.” He’s still not sure _ what _he saw, and he’s so afraid to find out, even if it’s Keefe doing all the explaining. “Got an eyeful and then some when I swiped your eye liner.”

“Shit, Kelvin, are you wearing makeup?”

“Better get used to it.” Or, he thinks so at least. There’s a lot he doesn’t know about being out just yet. Maybe Keefe will know. “I ain’t going back in the closet.”

“No one’s asking you to,” Jesse hazards.

“Momma told us we’re supposed to support you,” Judy says. 

“You should be thankful you have such an accepting family,” Jesse scolds. “Or at least apologize to Momma.”

“I, fine,” he groans. “Momma, I do appreciate all you did. Sorry it doesn’t sound that way when I’m hearing everyone say they knew I was gay before I did.” He glares at them both. “It’s not your fault your first two didn’t turn out right.”

“At least we’re not dressed like a God damned Devil worshiper,” Jesse spits. “Momma’s rolling in her grave.”

“You take that back!” Kelvin snaps. He stomps over and glares up at Jesse. What he wouldn’t give for a few extra inches. “Momma always loved me, and supported me-”

“You don’t know what the good Lord has given you.” Jesse shakes his head. No wonder Daddy always said he was destined to be the next leader. They’re both riding the same high horse. “A loving family. A guaranteed place working for a very successful, international congregation.”

“But that’s not what I want!” he shouts. “I don’t _ want _all this. It doesn’t make me happy!”

Kelvin looks at them both, really _ looks _, and he sees Jesse’s dismissive disappointment and Judy’s confusion, and he very suddenly cannot deal with this without feeling like he’s falling apart. He speed walks over to the Jeep and practically jumps inside, sparing the barest of glances back at his siblings, who are watching him intently but haven’t made a move to follow.

“Momma, I sure hope you’re right.” He starts the car and pulls through the space and onto the road. “And I sure hope Daddy forgets to remove my key code before I can get in the compound.”

-

There’s no time to change. There’s really no time to _ think _. Kelvin tears into his house and grabs the first suitcase he finds.

For all the urgency, after multiple prayers that he wouldn’t get pulled over or stopped at the gate, he can’t get his feet to move once he’s staring at the shelves in his walk in closet. Are clothes a priority? Are his hair supplies? Jewelry and other things he could possibly sell? Obviously he’s not going to be fitting the arcade cabinets in his bag, but should he grab smaller gaming systems?

Even when he hears his front door he’s frozen in place, still stuck staring at his shirts and suit coats. Judy’s heels clack on the hardwood as she comes to a stop at Kelvin’s right.

“I tell BJ we’re leaving all the time,” she says, breaking through his stupor, “and then I get stuck on this part.”

“How do I fit my whole life in a bag?” He turns to her, and drops the duffel bag to the floor. “What if I screwed up too much, and he won’t take me back?”

“He can’t take you back, dummy,” Judy laughs, “cause you weren’t together before. He’s gonna take you for the first time.”

Kelvin’s heart shatters and reforms so fast he feels sick. “You think so?”

“Depends, I guess. You’re a virgin. You don’t know shit about sex yet.”

“Ugh,” Kelvin groans, “Judy I’m talking _ emotionally _. I don’t have time to think about all the other stuff yet!”

“Fucking Hell, Kelvin. I’ve seen you two together. The only reason you don’t think he’ll fall to his knees and suck your dick the second you tell him you’re on board is because you’re scared shitless.”

He shrugs a shoulder. “I think he’s got every right to not want damaged goods.”

“You aren’t damaged goods,” she scoffs. “You’re a giant dork, and you’ve got the weirdest taste in men, but I guess Jesse can’t call him a boring ass white boy. He’s definitely not boring.” She doesn’t really gently pull him into a hug as much as she forces him into one, but he’ll take it. Right now she’s all he’s got, which is its own kind of terrifying. “He’s probably gonna blow his load when he gets a good look at you in this outfit.”

“Judy, you’re supposed to say stuff to make me feel better when you’re giving me a hug.” He hugs her back, and just about squeezes the life out of her. “Don’t let nobody tell you you aren’t like Momma, okay? I mean, she never tried to cat claw me, and I never had to see _ whatever _ that was on your bathroom counter-” (“Kelvin oh my God you can _ drop _it. You gotta sanitize that shit after use.”) “-but you came. That’s what matters.”

“Are you kidding?” She steps back; she thinks she’s hiding her misty eyes from him, and he lets her. “You and me and Keefe and BJ are double dating after this. Jesse’s never let me talk sex stuff because he’s as boring as unsalted rice. I bet your Ex-Satanist boy toy has all sorts of tips.”

“He’s not my-! Judy that’s nasty. I’m not talking sex with my sister! You don’t even know anything about the gay kind anyway.” She raises an eyebrow, praise be to He that Kelvin realizes it’s a ploy to get him to ask _ before _ he does it. “I still gotta go _ find _him, first.”

“Ugh,” Judy snatches the bag off the ground and tugs some random clothes off Kelvin’s hangers and from his drawers. He reaches for his jewelry drawer and grabs a big handful of his rings and whatnot, and when she comes back with a bag stuffed with the essentials he adds the jewelry and she zips it up. “Now stop all this procrastinating. BJ and me will pack you up right.”

“You will?” She shoves the bag into his chest. “It’s not that I’m not grateful-”

“Oh, just shut your trap and go get your man.” She starts tugging more things off the shelves with one hand and dials BJ with the other. Kelvin turns to go. “BJ get over here. Kelvin’s place! Shit, let me finish my thoughts.”

He can’t stop smiling.


	8. Chapter 8

Club Sinister is a pulsing, living thing, with a miasma of sweat and smoke threatening to choke Kelvin the moment he steps inside. Strange bodies, strange _ acts _, are all writhing as one giant tangle.

"Jesus, Keefe may be lost, but he can be found." And he _ will _be found. All the police officers in the whole county won't drag him from this building until Keefe is by his side.

"Gotta be - you!" He'd remember that not so gentle giant anywhere. Daedalus' facepaint is running, and he's libel to topple over and crush Kelvin into dust. It's his David and Goliath moment, and the Lord's light is his rock and sling. Or his fists, if the Lord feels like letting Kelvin have this one.

"Hey!" He's, weirdly happy to see Kelvin? "Bible guy, that is a mother fucking good look. The dark lord is most definitely pleased."

"Yeah, no," he takes a step back from Daedalus' grabby hands. "Despite my outward appearance the only Lord I am pleasing is the good Lord Himself. Now, in order to do that I need some information from you, and I'd hate to do it, but I happen to know the Lord sanctions me to use my fists if necessary." He falls into a fighting stance, or as close as he can in these pants. "It's your choice. Now tell we where Keefe is at!"

"Yeah, course," he bends down a bit to get at Kelvin's eye level. In that exact moment Kelvin has never hated someone he barely knows more than he hates this man. Daedalus points towards the DJ platform, guiding Kelvin's line of sight. "Left cage. There's a step stool you can use to climb up inside. Might be a little high."

"I'll do just fine thank you." _ Lord grant me the patience to not throttle this somewhat helpful man. _ "Have a blessed day."

Hs sort of hoped hearing that stung, but Daedalus appears unphased. One second he's there, patronizing Kelvin, and the next he's melded into the crowd, unseen.

He parts the black sea, moving towards the source of the pulsing beats with great purpose. When he's beneath the cage he shouts to Keefe, but the sound is drowned out by the giant speakers below.

It's not that he can't jump up to the cage from the ground, but he's a little concerned the sudden addition of himself would send it into a tailspin and potentially jettison Keefe into the crowd below. So he pulls a wobbly barstool away from the railing and climbs up onto it. His arms barely clear the bottom of the cage - alright so he needed the stool. He needed it. Daedalus wins this round. The Lord will look back at this moment of Kelvin's life and praise him for his humility.

He bangs on the edge, "Keefe!" and one or the other finally gets his attention. The door swings freely and Kelvin grabs the side; a hand is offered and he takes it gladly, and the two of them get him up and safely into the cage. He latches the door behind him and, finally, turns to face Keefe fully.

He's naked. This isn't new, but Kelvin's more aware of a certain part of himself that is less than innocently curious about this current situation. He's also_ very _ surprised, and Kelvin realizes he wasn't letting Kelvin up specifically, but whoever was banging on the cage demanding entry. Oh, Kelvin is getting Keefe out of here, to anywhere, as long as it can be described as away.

"Wow," Keefe mouths. Maybe he says something, but Kelvin can't hear. Keefe leans in closer. "That really you under all that?"

"Somewhere!" he shouts. "Left my cross in my other pants!" Keefe laughs, but that real low and slow sort of laugh Kelvin hasn't heard in a couple years. There's always been something real buttery smooth about Keefe when he's a little high. "Keefe, did you take something?"

"Yeah" he admits. "Sorry. It's weed. Not a lot of it."

"No sorry, it's your choice. The Lord forgives." Kelvin does, too. He can't imagine staying in this place without some sort of aid, medicinal or otherwise. "As long as you wanted it."

"I didn't not want it," Keefe sighs. "Been hard, er, that is -" he moves to cover himself - "difficult."

"You don't have to," he says, "I uh, well you sure have me and Jesse and Judy an eyeful the other night but, and I meant to say something, but I saw, on accident, when we were lifting." He mimes doing a few reps with a bar. "It's just, your shorts are real short. I'm sorry. You don't have to be modest if you don't want."

And Kelvin will do his best not to stare. Now _ this _is a real temptation. There's so many things more appealing than having this conversation.

"I'm sorry," he says again, louder to beat out a crescendo below. "Jesse was getting blackmailed!"

"What?"

"Jesse, oh praise be to _ He _, is there somewhere quieter?" He cups a hand over his ear, and Keefe does the same. "I can't even hear myself!"

Keefe points to an area far beyond the main dance area, and that's all it takes to light a fire under their butts. Kelvin climbs down first, holding up hands and guiding Keefe when he just barely can't reach the stool while still hanging onto the cage. Not their best acrobatics, but certainly not as bad as that time Kelvin bruised his tailbone.

He's getting so many handfuls of sweaty, lightly tanned skin that it's hard to get his mind on track. And then that skin is leading him through the crowd, hand in his to keep from separating. Keefe is solid, and his hand is warm, and Kelvin truly is the world's biggest idiot. His momma up in heaven must have been putting her head in her hands on the daily.

There's some industrial lighting, the kind people use in construction sights. It casts dark, long shadows across the room, but that's not the thing that bothers Kelvin. No, it's the noises. If the whole club is a den of sin then this is the epicenter of it all. At least the people over here have the decency to be behind all these poorly hung sheet tents, even if the shadows from _ those _rooms tells him more than he needs to know.

"Keefe, please do not tell me we're having a heart to heart in the sex corner of this place."

Keefe looks around. "It's more like a hallway. There's a way to the basement over there." He points. "At least we can hear."

"I don't know if that's a feature, bud." He scratched the back of his head. "I suppose you didn't really hear what I said in the cage."

"Didn't hear much of anything, no," Keefe says. "_ Saw _some real interesting sights."

Kelvin twists one foot to show off the boots. "All courtesy of the Gemstone credit card." He grimaces, someone's getting real into it across the hall. "I said I'm sorry. I know I said it before," he holds up a hand, "but this is a new sorry. A couple of 'em, really. See, my family's been having a rough time because Jesse did something stupid. Something the Lord definitely did not like."

"Oh."

"Yeah, it's a _ big _ oh. His oldest videoed him doing some hard drugs, and spending some time with a prostitute. He wasn't there," hes quick to add. "He left his phone behind. And I think Jesse didn't do the sexing, but he was complicit. And then there was blackmail, and I knew you could get in trouble by I didn't think they'd really _ fire _you. And I'm so sorry, I really am. I just didn't want you being complicit too. My daddy knows now, anyway. They're probably sweeping the loose ends up under a giant rug as we speak."

Keefe fades off somewhere in his head, leaving Kelvin alone with _ the noises _. When he comes back it's only part way. "You were real shook up a few weeks ago."

"Jesse ran over one of 'em with his car. They lived." He shivers. "But, see, _ that's _ why my family was being punished. And I had all this guilt," he grabs his chest, "right here, clogging me up good. Honesty is the best policy, and that's something I intend to follow a lot better now."

"Okay."

"I sure hope so," he whispers. Another real God displeased of a moan interrupts, and Kelvin's eyes roll so hard he swears they end up in the back of his head. "You can't cool it for five minutes? The Lord will thank you!" There's a soft, oh so satisfied affirmative, and Kelvin's soul leaves his body. Right then and there. But there is a blissful, if a bit horrifying silence that Kelvin isn't going to waste. "There's things about myself I'm starting to realize. I'm," he gulps, "a homosexual man - why the heck did I say it like that? - I'm gay, Keefe. I'm fairly certain, at least. Haven't had a lot of time to let it percolate."

"Oh, that is a lot to process."

"Right? Not to mention my _ whole _family had it all figured out before I did. Momma did, at least, and she spilled the beans." More like cushioned the blow, and he can never thank her properly no matter how much he wants to. "And that was alright for them, me being gay, but, well, according to my daddy not if it included you." He pauses, holds his breath really. Keefe's nibbling on his lower lip, a nervous rabbit Kelvin's trying not to scare off. "I could lead the Gemstone Ministry to greatness, but I don't want to if you can't be by my side. So, here I am," he gestures to himself proudly, "by yours. If I haven't screwed up enough to make you not love me anymore. Sorry! Sorry, I'm not trying to project or nothing. I just," he can't tell, but he certainly hopes Keefe is biting back a smile. "I'm yours. If you'll have me."

"Well," Keefe sighs, sending Kelvin's gut into the floor, "the thing is" - Kelvin is an unlovable, awful _ monster _ \- "you went to a lot of trouble, and I appreciate that. But as much as I didn't fit in there I think you fit in here less. The eyeliner's real good, though. Very even."

"Thanks. Thank you. It took like, ten minutes to get it right."

"And if I'm honest, which we're being, I don't know if I fit in so well here either." He nods. "Yeah, I just think maybe it should be somewhere else where we both fit okay."

"Yeah?" Kelvin laughs. He's never felt like puking from happiness but tonight is already full of firsts. "Where's that?"

"I don't know," Keefe laughs too, buttery smooth. "Probably somewhere with pants."

"Well, don't get ahead of yourself," Kelvin jokes.

Keefe said he had a light, but Keefe has one too, and it's nearly blinding when he looks at Kelvin like that. _ With love _ , he thinks. _ It's always been love. All this time. _

Years later, Kelvin will look back on the time be processed his love in a sex hallway while his significant other stood there completely naked and probably getting tetanus. For now, he's panicking, because one person rushing by seems totally normal, nothing to see here, but the commotion on the floor isn't the usual, debauchery filled sort of chaos. The crowd is scattering, and they're in a raid.

"Uh oh."

"You bet your missing shorts, uh oh." Kelvin clenches a fist. "No!" Keefe jumps. "No, we're not, I did not come all this way dressed like _ this _ just for us to get arrested. We haven't even done anything!"

"Except a little weed."

"Right, there is that." He whines. "Where's your clothes?" Keefe points to the mass of people. "Crud, okay. Not an option."

"You could loan me your pants."

"Keefe I am _ flattered _ but even I am not trim enough to wear these pants with underwear."

"Oh," Keefe shifts, "that does not solve our dicks out problem."

"Not in the least." Kelvin bounces on his feet, and says a little prayer. "Lord, if you could guide us - Keefe you said this leads to the basement?" Nodnodnod. "Great, and does that lead outside?"

"It's a little meandering, but it does do that."

"Then that's our path." He grabs Keefe's hand, and spares a brief moment they don't have to smile down stupidly at them. "Lead the way."

-

Miracles don't have to be big, flashy productions. They don't have to affect a lot of people. Sometimes a miracle is a pair of abandoned black sweatpants hanging off an unused pipe. They're mostly clean, likely not meant to be worn for longer than absolutely necessary. They fit Keefe well enough to stay up.

Sometimes a miracle is Kelvin dragging them into a dark corner because he just had a feeling; their bodies pressed together as they don't dare breathe until an officer rushes past them as he sweeps the basement.

Sometimes it's just darkness at first, but an unfamiliar pinprick of light in the distance calling to them, Keefe proclaiming, "it's by the road. Must be a streetlight," and being _ right _.

Sometimes it's just running, whooping and laughing because they're past the rows of unevenly parked cars and police vehicles and they don't trip once.

Kelvin still hasn't stopped laughing when they reach the Jeep. Keefe's laughing too, but only because Kelvin can't seem to stop. He smacks his hands down on the hood, grinning like a true madman.

"Keefe! You know what that was?"

Keefe looks back at the scattering clubgoers. "A alright escape?"

"It's more than alright! Keefe! The Lord, I felt it, gosh almighty. Praise be to _ He _ ! The, the light, after a long stretch of darkness. The feeling. The pants! He helped _ us _ Keefe. He helped both of us, together. Side by side." He pulls Keefe to him, and he kisses him. "Oh, oh crap. I'm sorry. I shoulda asked. Was that okay?"

Keefe chuckles. "I'd say it was alright."

"Good," Kelvin laughs, "good. If I asked, does that mean I could do it again?"

"Yeah, yes please."

"Okay, good." And he does it, kisses Keefe again and again.

At least, until the little whoop of a siren goes off beside them. A straggler car, looking to get a collar before the night ends.

"Just going on a drive," Kelvin says.

"Hands up!" They both obey fast. No sense being belligerent. "You are in possession of a stolen vehicle."

"For the," Kelvin glares up, but this one is all Daddy. "Officer, I'd like to state for the record, that I _ do _own this vehicle. And it is most definitely not stolen."

"You're Eli Gemstone?" Kelvin's gut twists up, but he's not surprised. "Then you are _ not _the owner of this car, hands on the hood."

He does as he's told, and spares a glance at Keefe. "Sir, he was never inside this vehicle. I drove there to retrieve him. Said grand theft auto is mine alone."

Keefe blinks sadly. Kelvin mouths, "it's okay," but Keefe either wildly misinterprets or decides it's _ not _. "I do happen to be high at the moment."

And that's how they find themselves in the back of a police cruiser, shoulder to shoulder, in front of God and his momma and the good people trying to clear out the degenerates still inside Club Sinister.

"You didn't have to say that," Kelvin says.

"I couldn't let you go all alone," Keefe says. Despite their growing criminal record, he's smiling. "We're in this together."

"Yeah?" Kelvin shoulders him, and Keefe bumps him back. "I like the sound of that."


	9. Johnny Seasons

On his day off Johnny Seasons receives a call from the county prison about an individual in need of a man of God to guide him through crisis. These calls aren't frequent, but they're far from unusual. There isn't a stronger slap to the face of a person straying from God than a lengthy prison sentence. He tells them he'll arrive in an hour, maybe less, and he sets aside his cup of coffee so he can get dressed.

After said crisis is averted, hands are held and souls soothed, Johnny's leaving through the admittance hall when he overhears a few interesting jests.

"And you thought the worst Gemstone to have in holding overnight was Judy."

His interest is piqued. Not about Judy, who's carefully swept up reputation still manages to precede her. It's the tone, which is light and jovial. The people just finishing up their overnight don't seem to be frustrated by their guest. No, they're amused by him.

"Ah, Reverend," the shift lead claps her hand in his and gives him a hearty shake. "If you're not busy, we sure would appreciate you looking into another lost soul over in holding."

"Of course." He's a man of God, but he's also a man, and right now a very curious one. "Drunk tank?"

"Just the open cell."

"Hm," he has a few ideas about what he's going to see. "I know the way."

None of his ideas prepared him for the sight he's met with. A man - two actually but the shirtless one with the tattoos barely registers on his rader - in very elaborate black clothing, making himself at home on one of the wall benches and talking to his cellmate with an easy smile. When he can tear his eyes away, he sees the tattooed man smiling easily back. They both carry such a fondness around their eyes, in the way they lob nonsense comments at each other about youth groups and God and… cages? He's missing some details linking the topics.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" He says, and Kelvin Gemstone sits up on his bench and tips his head in greeting. "Of all the Gemstones I know, you are the last one I expected to see here."

"Been a bit of a wild night," he admits. He looks down at his outlandish attire. "Would you believe this seemed like a good idea at the time?"

"I believe that you believe that."

"Oh, that's a good one," Kelvin laughs. He turns to his cellmate. "I guess I had that one coming." He surprises Johnny then, when he reaches over and touches the other man's bangs for just a moment. And then he remembers he has an audience and scurries up to the bars. His cellmate sits up to watch him. They're quite an odd couple, although less so with Kelvin dressed as he is. "See, my daddy and I had ourselves a bit of a disagreement. And it wasn't about these clothes if you can believe that too."

"I've had my share of disagreements with your father."

Kelvin flushes, and clears his throat. "Right, well with all that in mind I am surprised to see you here, Reverend."

"I'm on a crisis list. They call me if they have a lost soul on their hands."

"That's important work."

"I'm glad you think so." He squares his shoulders, and gives Kelvin a thorough once-over. Sleep tousled hair, day old makeup, he's a sight, but there's such a lightness in his posture and expression. He's content. "They tell me you're a lost soul yourself. I'm interested to hear your take."

Some of the contentedness fades into uncertainty. "Well, I wouldn't say _ lost _, but, but even if I was, why I'd be lying if I said I've seen souls too lost to save."

"I have." Kelvin's breath hitches. "But I do not see a lost soul before me. I see a man who finally got tired of being under his father's thumb."

"That is part of it," he admits. He glances over his shoulder at the other part. "We didn't see eye to eye about, well, what I wanted."

"Does the Lord?"

"I sure hope so."

Surprising. To this day Johnny still hasn't found anything Kelvin's ever done to suggest he's not fit to lead. This might raise a few eyebrows, of course. "What did you do?"

"My daddy reported my car stolen." Johnny sucks in a breath. "Yes sir, I think I might be forging on ahead without him from now on."

"What will you do?"

Kelvin shrugs. "Haven't really gotten a chance to think about that yet. I called my sister, gosh wouldn't that be a sight? Judy Gemstone bailing someone out? But she didn't answer last night. They said I could try again this morning."

"And you?" Johnny leans around Kelvin to look at his partner in crime. "No answer?"

"Well," he shrugs, "my call is his call."

"We're sort of a package deal."

"That so?" He steps back a bit to lean on the Sargent's countertop. "What's a Gemstone boy's bail running these days? His _ friend _ too."

"I'll make it free if you take these hooligans off my hands," she teases. They've certainly enjoyed the breath of fresh air that is Kelvin Gemstone in holding. "I'll get their files."

Kelvin sputters, "Reverend, I uh, I can't promise I'll be good for it for awhile."

"The Lord teaches us to be charitable."

"He does, he does." Keefe comes to stand beside him. Not lost souls at all, just a bit misplaced. Underutilized. Sometimes the Lord's ways aren't so mysterious. "Well, in the meantime, we sure would be willing to help out if you have any ideas."

"I do," he says warmly, "and I think you're going to like it."


	10. Jesse Gemstone - Six Months Later

Jesse locks the door to the first ever Gemstone satellite location to close. On the official report it states asbestos as the cause, something Jesse thought up on the spot when 'numbers were down' and they needed to nip any rumors in the bud. Helps when the masses are too wrapped up in themselves to tell the difference between normal insulation and the bad kind, thank you Levi.

He sighs Things are bleak. Daddy didn't even compliment him on his quick thinking. God damn it, Kelvin.

Speaking of one very specific devil, Jesse spots Kelvin leaning against the building down the street. He'd have to be struck blind to miss that stupid soft serve curl he does with his bangs. Despite the weather being fair he's wearing a coat, and some ridiculous fingerless gloves.

Jesse's seen this before, and he knows just what to do.

“ Whoever oppresses the poor shows contempt for their Maker, but whoever is kind to the needy honors God.” Kelvin startles, trying to save face by looking for some other mysterious homeless man Jesse is preaching to. “Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will reward them for what they have done. The generous will themselves be blessed, for they share their food with the poor.” He chuckles. “Would’ve been a hell of a lot easier a couple weeks ago, but there’s a YMCA down the street.”

“Wh-” Kelvin laughs, “why’re you quoting scripture at me?”

“We can’t have a Gemstone sleeping rough, doing God knows what to get a hot meal-”

“I am not homeless!” he shouts. “Are you kidding me, Jesse? Why the heck would you think I’m homeless?”

“You’re wearing a winter coat on a glorious day that the Lord has given us!” Jesse gestures to his coat-less self. “And those ridiculous gloves.”

“Jesse, we’re at a skating rink!” He gestures big to the sign by the front door. “You know what that is, right? It’s got ice and it’s real cold inside?”

“Course I know that!” He glares at the building. Of course he knew it was the skating rink. To hell with Kelvin, thinking he didn’t when he was obviously more concerned with his little brother’s housing status. “Don’t be stupid.”

“And I couldn’t cover these up,” he holds up all ten fingers and waggles them, grinning ear to ear as he shows off some baby blue nail polish. Jesse doesn’t know where the line’s been redrawn now that Kelvin is out in the open, flaunting his self in all his gay glory, so he bites back his comments. “Our youngest group wanted to practice, and I couldn’t let them go without knowing what colors are God approved. I think they did real nice.”

“Real even,” Jesse chokes out.

“The older group wanted to go,” he tips his head towards the rink. “Ice rink’s not a real easy place to talk about God, but that’s what long rides in the van are for.”

“It all seems rather frivolous.”

"Ha!" Kelvin shakes his head. What he thinks is so funny is beyond Jesse. "Well, if you say so. The kids sure like it."

Kelvin looks towards the street and grins. Jesse turns to watch Dot Nancy skip-run up to Kelvin and declare, "it's pay parking. He didn't know what to do."

"I wondered why you were taking so long," Kelvin says. "Tell him to use the card and get a receipt. Nobody's parents are gonna want their kids walking multiple blocks to save twenty bucks. And use the crosswalk!" He calls after her. She walks backwards towards the corner and gives them both a stink eye. Jesse doesn't see why  _ he  _ got one, considering he didn't say anything, but there's no denying her intent. "She is a character."

"She's that Nancy girl," Jesse says, knowing he's right but still checking for Kelvin's nod. "It's not right what you did, driving her and her family away from the church."

"Gemstone ain't the only place of worship around, Jesse." Kelvin unzips his coat far enough to show off the little leaf logo for Seasons' Youth Ministry, and zips it back up. "I didn't tell her nothing, but Dot's real smart. She found out Keefe and I were moving operations, and she and some of her friends jumped ship." He shrugs. "Parents felt it necessary to follow."

"We lost donors!" Jesse shouts. "We lost a  _ location _ ." He jabs a finger at the empty building behind him. "At least have the decency to feel bad for spiting men of God for your own personal gain, and after everything this family did for you."

"Everything? Like how Daddy graciously dropped the charges when he reported the car I was using stolen? You're right, I should be more thankful." Kelvin's so pissy, little spitfire. "And you're doing me a world of good, Jesse, thinking I'm homeless and directing me _ to the YMCA. _ Glad to see you wouldn't take me in."

"Now I-I didn't say that-"

"You know who's  _ actually _ been supportive? Judy. Yeah," he nods, "just take that in for a minute. Let it percolate. Because she packed up my clothes for me, and gave me some of her savings-"

"You know that's definitely stolen money," Jesse counters. "You're stealing from our members."

"I chose not to balk at_ charity_ when I didn't have the luxury to be choosy. She did all that before I even knew if Keefe and me," he cuts himself off. "At least she still talks to me. Sometimes it's the worst, because she keeps trying to sex talk and Keefe doesn't have a good filter, but if that's what God wants me to endure to keep the good I've gotten then she can do it every day. I'm _happy_, Jesse. I don't know if I've ever been this happy before." He huffs. "You and Daddy had your chance. It's too late now. I wouldn't come back even if you begged me."

"Well, maybe we don't want you back anyway."

"Good."

Jesse knows the moment Kelvin sees Keefe even when he can't see the mullet-sporting weirdo. Kelvin's always worn his emotional heart on his sleeve. Why it beats for this guy Jesse will never know.

Jesse turns to the gaggle of teenagers approach with Keefe taking up the rear. (Heh.) Keefe is either unaware or unconcerned about the impending cold given his thin black sweatshirt over the same tee shirt as Kelvin's. Jesse sincerely hopes it's the former. Kelvin may have pulled the trigger but Keefe meticulously cleaned the gun, loaded the cartridges, and switched off the safety. He kind of hates him for what he’s done to this family.

He wades through the group and comes to stand in front of Kelvin. Jesse notices the wary glance at his shoe; at least one of these two doofuses has some proper respect for his authority.

"It was closer to thirty-five," he tells Kelvin. "It's one of those prepaid ones, where you have to set the time. The kids voted for three."

"Sounds reasonable to me," Kelvin says. "We're here celebrating a good day's service, after all. Martin, tell me how many cans we got during yesterday's food drive?"

"189," a squirrely little guy says from the center of the group.

"An excellent haul for the food bank," Kelvin enthuses.

"And we got almost five hundred in cash donations," a Dot lookalike says.

"Right you are, Sarah. Some very good work, all of you. Now, why don't you all get in line for skates inside. I got us all paid for."

Kelvin catches Keefe by the arm as the kids nearly bowl Jesse over in their enthusiasm to get inside. "I'll just be a minute."

"Alright." He glances Jesse's way, sending a half-assed, disrespectful, "Jesse," his way. So much for his well deserved respect.

“I’m getting divorced.” It’s not even in the neighborhood of what he meant to say, but it’s out there.

“I know, Judy told me.” (“Damn it, Judy! Can’t keep her damn mouth shut.”) “Good for Amber. She never deserved the bull crud you put her through.” Kelvin looks past Jesse. “I better get inside. I’m on the clock.”

“You’re two peas in a pod,” Jesse says. Kelvin stops, but he doesn’t turn around. “Tearing things apart. Fracturing the family Momma always wanted to keep together.”

“Given the circumstances,” he says quietly, “I’d say she’s okay with the results.”

Jesse watches said results, watches the brazen way Kelvin walks up behind Keefe and puts a hand on his lower back. And the way those two homewreckers smile at each other when Kelvin drops his hand and links his finger around Keefe’s pinky.

“God damn it.” He shakes his head. “Selfish little brat.”


End file.
